


Cut to The Feeling

by Culttherapy



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Tumblr: holtzbertsecretsanta, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 07:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13231107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culttherapy/pseuds/Culttherapy
Summary: A botched attempt at Christmas brings Holtzmann and Erin closer. Alternatively titled Christmas Cookies.





	Cut to The Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pringlealltheway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlealltheway/gifts).



> Happy Holidays Darcy! I hope you have an incredible new year!

Erin could feel her cheeks heat as she barely dodged the eyes of several passerby on the corner of Varick and Beech. On the list of stupid things she had done in her life, this fell near the top, right behind dating Phil and maybe before trying to explain particle physics to Kevin. She tapped her foot impatiently, pulling aside the creamy sleeve of her trench, then a second, softer sleeve of heinously paired colors to stare down at her watch. 8:36AM. Sighing she bent to tuck the leg of her onesie back into her snow boots. She had never been this late to the firehouse before, even on days off when she came in on her own time to finish up this or that. This morning had simply been a colossal feat of of hesitation most of which was spent gazing at herself in the mirror and cursing Holtzmann. 

 The younger engineer had somehow roped everyone into what she was calling the ‘Olympics of Christmas Cookiedom’ and paired herself with Erin against Patty and Abby, Kevin having volunteered himself as their only judge. Erin’s family had never been one to make an event of performing Christmas traditions and the idea of being teamed up with Holtzmann, for something she could only assume was a tradition of the Holtzmann family, ignited something in her that slithered around low in her belly and made her chest tight in a way that felt right but that she wasn’t sure she wanted to acknowledge.

 Holtz had suggested each team wear a ‘uniform’ and as soon as a follow up text had vibrated in to Erin’s phone the thing slithering had wilted and died. It had been an amazon link to the most ridiculous Christmas onesie she could have imagined, and as she stared in horror several rapid fire, exclamation point and emoji filled text notifications rolled across the top of her screen. How could she say no to Holtz? After all, this was her tradition, her idea, and the idea of disappointing the young engineer didn’t only kill whatever was squirming around her insides but made her feel hollow. And so, she had ordered the onesie.

 Hoisting her pack further on to her shoulder with the clang of cookie cutters chirping from it, she hurried across the street and made her way to the firehouse’s front door, thankful to be slipping away from the gazes of those who had crossed with her. She closed the door with a light click and turned to face the office space of the first floor to be met with a chorus of barely-stifled laughter.Patty and Abby sat at their desks, each wearing an apron reading ‘I’m with Mr” and “Mrs.” clause respectively, a printed candy cane pointing toward the other from the fabric.

 Erin let her bag drop to the ground, her jacket spreading wide as she held out her arms in dismay, revealing the front of her get-up in all of it’s glory.

 “Like, like those aprons are much better!” She struggled. “What, I, you, who’s-You’re not even a couple so!”

 A gloved hand snaked around her thin shoulders and Holtzmann’s yellow hued glasses snuck from behind her into her peripheral.

 “Neither are we babe. Yet.”

 “You!” Erin whipped around to face the blonde and stopped short, mouth agape and eyes widening dramatically.

 Holtzmann stood, all swagger, hip cocked in a onesie entirely unlike Erin’s. She was encased in black, the onesie, and her beloved leather jacket, from which the long shafts of white bones protruded, a hood made to look like a skull encasing her blonde mop. Not red and green and orange and purple and teal snowflakes, reindeer and sunglass wearing Santas.

 “Lookin’ good Hot Stuff!” Holtzmann patted her bicep and with a loud clap rubbed her hands together as she appraised the taller woman.

“Holtz. You. We. HOW COME IM THE ONLY ONE IN THIS STUPID ONESIE!?” Erin gestured wildly between Holtzmann and herself. 

 “I don’t think we can both fit into yours, but I’m willing to try!” She deadpanned.

 The look on Erin’s face made it clear that that was not an acceptable answer.

 “They were sold out by the time I got around to buying mine, but check this baby out!” She spun on her heels and bent forward, shaking her rear at Erin. “It’s got a butt flap! And!!!” She twirled back, hands shoved forward from within the garment. “Deep, and I mean SUPER deep pockets. I could fit like, an entire baby proton pack in here. PLUS! I’m a freakin’ skeleton!” She flapped the sides of her jacket open to show off a plush rib cage and felt pelvic bones.

 Erin wasn’t having any of it. Tearing her jacket off she launched it and her back pack at her desk haphazardly, stomping over to and up the stairs, mumbling the entire way.

 “Erin! Er-Bear!” Holtzmann climbed after her, boots hammering up the steps two at a time.

 “Think they’re making out or killing each other?” Patty leaned to pick up Erin’s jacket, tossing it onto the physicists desk before following the two up stairs.

 “Making out. No doubt.” Abby clanked behind her with the bag of Erin’s supplies.

 

* * *

 

 “Holtzmann you made me look like an idiot!” She was already halfway out of the fabric by the time Holtzmann found her in the back cot room. The engineer stopped dead in her tracks behind the older woman. She could barely see the curve of her chest and as she turned angrily to the younger woman she exposed the entirely of a white cotton bra and lightly toned abs.

“I…uh…” Holztmann balked and tried to look anywhere but Erin’s chest. She had seen tiny bits of skin here and there when they had changed in to their jumpsuits, mostly in the summer when it was too hot to wear anything substantial underneath the heavy work fabric. Nothing like this.

 “What Holtz? You what?” It was then she realized her sudden near-nudity and crossed her arms over her chest, the sudden embarrassment tempered by her anger. She took in the heat that reddened Holtz’s face and watched her dodging eyes as they flicked around to anything but her. She barely registered the timid sorry that was so unlike her coworker. Whatever lived in her stomach squirmed to life.

 “Look, Erin, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was that important to you. Why don’t…we could switch onesies..or, something.” The blond squinted at a whole lot of nothing on the ceiling, one gloved hand scratching at the back of her head, the other moving in and out of her pocket indecisively. “That way you wont be in one quite so…ugly?”

 The anger Erin had felt rising in her like hot sludge slowly dissipated and left way for a tingling anxiety she was more familiar with. She had gone in to this with the intention of not only trying honor Holtz and her traditions, but to have fun with her. And so what if she had been made to walk outside in this stupid suit in front of people in actual suits, who probably thought she was a moron. It was for Holtz and it made her feel good to do, deep down somewhere, despite how idiotic she simultaneously felt. Maybe if they switched it would make both of them feel better; her for getting out of the damned onesie, albeit into another, and Holtzmann for having felt like she comforted the older woman. Despite all of her personal reservations she had to try, for Holtzmann.

 Pinching the bridge of her nose she turned around to shield herself from Holtz and to keep from having to look at the clearly uncomfortable woman.

 “Yeah Holtz, lets do that.”

 They swapped outfits in silence, back to back in the small room, facing each other only after two long satisfying zips vibrated into the air. Turning, it was Erin’s turn to be awed by the woman before her. While Holtzmann was a tiny woman she preferred baggier, loose clothing, and though Erin was sure she had intended to swamp herself in the low-crotched skeleton Erin now wore, Erin herself had opted for a smaller, tighter fit in the atrocious onesie that now hugged the bend of Holtzmann’s hips in a way she hadn’t seen on the engineer before. The fabric gripped her form and molded to the curves Erin didn’t have, and hadn’t known Holzmann did, the zip lingering low on her chest, collarbones peaking out from behind the cloth.

 “Stop droolin’ babe, save that saliva for the cookies.” Holtzmann winked at her and Erin felt her knees weaken.

 A loud knock erupted from behind the blonde, making Erin jump.

 “That’s enough y’all! When we gonna make these cookies?”

 “Let’s go kick some baking ass, shall we?” Holtzmann held her elbow out to the redhead and, after receiving her arm, marched them to and out of the door, humming ‘when Johnny Comes Marching Home’ as they went.

 

* * *

 

They had made it through round one scot-free, Kevin having deemed their chocolate chip shortbread cookies, dusted with salt flakes, Erin’s recipe, “Awesome” and “crunchy, but in an okay way”. They had won the round. Round two had taken a turn for the worse, when Holtzmann had eaten more raisins than really any one human should eat at one time. She had thusly depleted the sufficient supply of raisins to properly complete their oatmeal raisin cookies, and so they had lost the round via disqualification for failing to make the cookies promised. Kevin had insisted they wouldn’t have won against Abby and Patty’s thumbprint cookies anyway, as he didn’t think cookies should be ‘healthy’. Erin had had to add ‘Trying to explain why oatmeal raisin cookies still weren’t particularly healthy despite having the words ‘oatmeal’ and ‘raisin’ in the title’ to her dumbest things list.

 Round three, the final round, the tie breaker. Erin had prepared a recipe for traditional, decorative sugar cookies. A classic that was sure to defeat Abby’s Rumball recipe. Kevin would hate the taste of the rum and they wouldn’t be sweet enough for Kevin’s liking. Erin and Holtz had it in the bag. After a short coffee break Erin returned to she and Holtzmann’s side of the kitchen island to find Holtzmann rummaging through a bag on the floor, her hand flying up to slam a small bottle of cream of tartar onto the counter, followed shortly by cinnamon and baking soda.

 “Holtz, what are those for?” She tried to ask it nonchalantly, the anxiety rising again within her as she passed the crouching engineer to open the fridge, attempting to keep from ruining the lighthearted rhythm they had established earlier in the day. Rounds one and two had been full of shoulder bumping and more-than-awkward smiles, Erin would even dare to say eye twinkles. If that were a thing she believed in.

 Her own shuffling quickly joined the sound of Holtzmann’s as she dug for the two logs of dough she had prepared the night before. She had put them behind Patty’s tikka masala from two days ago and Abby’s long forgotten, heavily wanton-ed soup from what could have been months ago, hoping they would have avoided any tampering from the other team if they were hidden. Pushing aside old styrofoam she gasped as she heard the loud thud of cold dough slamming onto the countertop behind her. Careening around she could have screamed, watching as Holtz sprinkled the sugar cookie dough with unmeasured amounts of the baking soda, followed by the cream of tartar, which she opened then tilted over the mess she had made, dancing to effectively sprinkle it all with the off-white powder.

 “Oh my God, Holtz!!!” Her outburst drew the attention of their coworkers, Abby pulling the top off of the rum they were to use with a solid, wet pop as she and Patty stared at them, Kevin sneaking behind the two to steal one of their left over thumbprint cookies.

 Without a second thought she strode towards Holtz, not so gently nudging her away from the mess of powders and cold batter.

 “Holtzmann what in the hell are you doing?! This is for our sugar cookies! We discussed this, round three, sugar cookies, foolproof?!” She waved her hands manically around the concoction before her, eyes wild. Holtzmann stood next to her, hands up in a gesture of submission, gaze darting between the mess and the enraged physicist.

 “Whoa there Gilbert, you never mentioned any sugar cookies and I just-“

 Erin had worked so hard on the dough, a recipe her mother had given to her, one of the only things her mother had bestowed upon her lovingly. She had imagined making it with Holtzmann, all smiles and joy, laughing as they sprinkled the cut out shapes with colorful sanding sugar and she had…not told Holtzmann about it. She had forgotten to phone her, caught up in making the dough and her own thoughts the night before.

 “-would be nice to make Snickerdoodles.”

 Embarrassment reared it’s ugly head as she realized her fault, and the innocence behind Holtzmann’s mistake. That combined with the damn onesie incident that morning lit a fire in her. It felt like the was doing everything wrong, but trying so hard. Unable to control herself she spat the words at the younger woman before she could filter them.

 “Are you kidding me Holtzmann? First of all that is not how you make snickerdoodles, and who likes snickerdoodles anyway?! You’re ridiculous to think that any of us, or anyone for that matter, would want a cookie you threw together straight out of your own crazy thought process and not a recipe, and certainly not snickerdoodles for Christmas. We may as well just give them the-“

 She finally looked up from the mound of mis-matched ingredients in front of her to find Holtz gone, Abby and Patty eyeing her critically.

 “I’ve never seen Holtzy cry before.” Patty looked disgusted, hip cocked.

“Erin…” her best friend shook her head slowly, eyes flitting towards the staircase, encouraging her to follow upward.

 

* * *

 

 The heavy door to the roof squealed under it’s own weight as she pushed it open, the frigid wind sucking the air out of her lungs as she stuck her head out into the glow of the city lights. It always got dark so early in the winter. There was no sight of Holtzmann. Creaking back down the staircase she heard soft footsteps retreating to the back of the lab, followed by the quiet bang of skull on metal, a soft hiss chasing after it into the room.

Right, too cold for the roof. Erin slowly made her way back to where she knew Holtz would be, sitting cross legged under one of her work benches. Erin had found her there only one time before, after an intense phone call with Rebecca, the details of which Erin had never been privy to. Placing a hand on the table she crouched slowly, knees cracking as she came to eye level with the young engineer. She had pushed the yellow hued goggles from atop her head to cover her eyes and doubtlessly catch tears, heat fogging the tinted lenses. Reaching forward Erin pulled them gently from her face and rested them atop her blond mop, sliding to sit across from her, mirroring her position.

 “Oh Holtz.” The woman’s eyes were red rimmed and she wiped subconsciously at her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said back there. Today has been…hard, for me, and I just wanted it to be perfect.” She managed a sad smile, hoping the Holtz would give one back. The toothy grin she received was too big and overcompensating.

 “No biggie Babydoll, I’m only tearing up from an ionic discharge one of the shotguns let loose when i got up here. Smelled like sulfur and ghost farts.” She scrunched her nose too intensely and sniffed.

 “Holtz.” She reached forward and cupped Holtzmann’s hand in her own. “No, you’re upset because what I said was hurtful, and I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard around a thick lump of anxiety growing in her throat. She wasn’t good with emotions, especially other’s, let alone her own, and having to acknowledge them was not something she was used to or good at. She reminded herself that she was doing this for Holtzmann.

 “Nah, its-“

 “Jillian. Stop. Look.” Erin wanted Holtz to meet her gaze, despite how nervous it made her, how the idea of looking Holtzmann in the eyes, to see all fo the hurt there that she had caused practically made her fingers numb. When baby blues finally met her own she felt the thing within her bloom and burst like fireworks and suddenly she knew exactly what it was and exactly what she wanted.

 “I’m so sorry.” She hardly finished before she lunged forward, their foreheads meeting before their lips. Her hand snaked up the younger woman’s neck to rest against her jaw as it worked behind the skin there, Holtzmann kissing her back with an urgency that matched her own. With Erin practically in her lap Holtzmann slid backward, laying their bodies back onto the cold lab floor, Erin’s frame pressing in to hers as they readjusted. It felt like hours before they broke apart, lips swollen and breath coming in short, excited puffs. Abruptly Erin moved to sit up, another apology on the tip of her tongue, feeling too close and not close enough to the enigma beneath her.

 “Erin. Shut up.” Holtzmann leaned up and brushed her lips against the older woman’s gently, her tongue slipping across Erin’s bottom lip slowly.

 “If you’re sure you're okay with this.”

 Holtzmann gathered the redhead into her arms, lips still brushing as she drew closer.

 “No really, shut up.” She met Erin’s gaze and winked before situating the other woman beside her and taking a deep breath, staring into the steel underbelly of her work station.

 “I wanted to do this whole,” she waved noncommittally at the air above them, “bake off thing because I never really had a Christmas as a kid.” She sighed and steadied herself against the body next to her. “You know I grew up homeschooled, and it was because I had super crazy religious parents. Real no-holidays types. And so I never had Christmas, and I would see kids out shopping with their parents or meeting Santa and I would want it so bad.” She turned her head, nose to nose with Erin. “So. bad. And I had this Aunt, who I didn’t meet until I was a teen. You know, the whole religious faction, can’t hang with non-believers shebang, but anyway. I met her and she was the coolest thing since sliced bread, and she would sneak over to make Snickerdoodles with me around Christmas when my parents were out at church or wherever. I just…I wanted that back, and with my family. My _real_ family. You guys. I guess I just didn’t really know how.” She shifted to look back up at the sterile worktop above them. “Plus, I wanted to impress you.” She nudged Erin gently. “Who wouldn’t?” An eyebrow waggle accentuated the question.

 A heavy silence fell over them and slowly Erin slipped her hand into Holtzmann’s to entwine their fingers.

 “The dough was my mom’s. The recipe.” She stared into the side of Holtzmann’s face, noting the light freckles that dotted it. “I was so excited to make the cookies with you, with someone so important to me, that I forgot to tell you, and then lost my mind when you-“

 “Destroyed them?” She wiggled around to rest her head on Erin’s shoulder, tucking neatly into the side of her neck.

 Erin let out an exasperated giggle. “Modified them.”

 Holtzmann listened to the beat of Erin’s heart, solid and unrelenting beneath her ribs, her breath humming in and out of her chest. Gently she placed a kiss on the older woman’s neck.

“Holtz?” The beat thrummed into a quick rhythm. 

 “Yeah?”

 “We can do this.” She squeezed Holtzmann’s hand tightly, three times. She was suddenly so nervous she could hardly breathe, but she was so happy it didn’t matter.

 “Yeah, we can Erin.” Holtzmann squeezed back.

 “Now!” Holtzmann sat up so quickly she banged her head off of Erin’s chin and the steel top above her. Rubbing her head gingerly as Erin tended to her reddening chin she threw a finger into the air.

 “Let’s go make the best goddamn snicksugardudes the world has ever seen.”

 Erin raised and eyebrow at her and smiled, shaking her head disapprovingly.

 “Seen? Tasted? Tasted.” Holtzmann scrunched her nose, stood and held out a hand to the physicist, pulling her up and into a kiss before wrapping her arm around Erin’s waist and guiding them to the stairs. 

 "If this is what Christmas with the esteemed Erin Gilbert is like, I can't wait to see New Years."

 "Holtzmann."

 

 


End file.
